Tarkaan in Archenland
by Lionheart Rising
Summary: Emeth is a young Tarkaan who accompanies the Calormene ambassador to Archenland. There he meets someone he barely remembers from his childhood. (Not the Emeth from The Last Battle.)
1. Chapter 1

Emeth Tarkaan, son of Kidrash Tarkaan, grew up hearing stories of his brother's bravery in the wars of the Tisroc (may he live forever), and how he had sacrificed his life. When his father spoke of his oldest son, his eyes looked far away. The woman Emeth called Mother would pat his father's arm in a comforting way. But Emeth remembered a time when there had been a girl, Aravis he believed to be her name. He had been a child when all signs of her disappeared from the house. He remembered her in the way you remember a dream from long ago.

Preoccupied with his childhood, he'd barely noticed. The girl had always had better things to do than to be near him. But, when his father became drunk, which was seldom, he raged against the girl-child who'd brought dishonor on the house of Kidrash Tarkaan. Emeth's mother would also curse the girl under her breath. Emeth grew up, hearing the muttered oaths against the she-devil, Aravis Tarkeena.

When Emeth was fourteen, a man by Calormene standards, his father asked of the Tisroc (may he live forever) to permit Emeth to go to the northern country of Archenland with the Calormene ambassador. Rabadash Tisroc consented, and Emeth Tarkaan went to Archenland, where the aged King Lune ruled with his sons, the princes Cor and Corin.

Emeth and the company arrived in the summer, which for the Calormenes felt like winter. It was almost a relief. They were received in King Lune's throne room. The old king sat on his throne, two identical young men on either side of him. The one who stood to his left, however, was sporting a black eye and a split lip. He looked a fierce but mischievous young man, while his lookalike looked graver.

While the ambassador introduced himself, a beautiful woman entered the room. She was older than Emeth, and very obviously Calormene, with dark skin, hair and eyes. She smiled warmly at the boy to the right of the king, and smirked at the one to the left. Emeth also noticed a gold ring embedded with several diamonds on her left hand ring finger. Emeth saw a similar one on the hand of the boy to the right. Emeth was confused at her boldness. All Calormene women were docile and meek, and as this one was very obviously Calormene, Emeth didn't understand the way she behaved. Emeth was brought back by the ambassador's glare, who was motioning for him to introduce himself.

"Oh king, I am Emeth Tarkaan, son of Kidrash Tarkaan, son of Rishti Tarkaan, son of Kidrash Tarkaan, son of Ilsombreh Tisroc, the son of Ardeeb Tisroc, who was descended in a right line from the god Tash. The Lord of Calavar sends his greeting to you, oh king." After his speech, Emeth saw that the Calormene woman had gone pale. The king seemed not to notice as he introduced his own family.

"These are my sons, Cor and Corin. Cor is my heir, and the lady you see standing there is his wife, Princess Aravis." And then Emeth himself lost some of his color. Aravis? It was a common enough name in Calormen, but they were not in Calormen. And when he had said his name, the girl had looked nervous, as if she were embarrassed about something.

"Aravis, are you well?" the younger of the two princes, Corin he was called, asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, but she certainly didn't sound that way. The older prince, her husband Cor, looked as if he were trying to remember something he'd heard long ago and wished he could recall it.

"Lords of Calormen, would you care to wash the dust from your feet and the sweat from your brow before enjoying supper?" the crown prince, Cor, asked. He spoke like the others, Emeth noticed, but beneath his clipped Archen accent, there was something of the fluid way Calomene's speak. Emeth left the room more confused than he had ever been in his life. Who was the woman, and why was she so familiar?

_Author's note: So here's the first chapter of my first multi-chaptered Narnia fic. Hope you enjoyed it. Oh, as a disclaimer: I was completely at a loss as to what to call Aravis's younger brother, so I stole the name from the young tarkaan at the end of _The Last Battle_. Other than the thoughts of the characters in this story, everything belongs to Jack._

_**Author's note (edited): I decided to fix some little mistakes, because frankly, they were bothering me. No real plot change, just some technical issues.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: So here's the second chapter. The words in italics are people's thoughts, and this chapter is told from Aravis and Emeth's perspectives. Confession time: I have no idea where I'm going with this. Please review and give me feedback and ideas on where to go next. Please. I am a desperate dryad queen.**

_What is going on? _Emeth wondered. _Shouldn't the crown price of Archenland sound like an Archenlander? Shouldn't his wife be from Archenland? Oh Tash, I have to sup with them._ With a lot of effort, Emeth rose from the chair he'd been sitting in and changed into his best tunic, then washed his face and his feet. A servant girl knocked on the door and led him to a room where the rest of his party were seated, along with the royal family. Emeth had the luck to be seated next to the princess, Aravis.

She was lovely, a trait that Emeth didn't care much about. There was also something strange that made him frightened of her. While they were eating, she politely asked him questions of Calormen.

"How fares your father, the lord of Calavar?" she asked. She sounded as if it pained her to mention it.

"He is well, your Highness," he replied dutifully.

"And are you his only child?" she asked, sounding slightly anxious.

"That is a difficult question to answer, your Highness. I am the only one still living under my father's name. My brother was killed in one of the Tisroc's (may he live forever) wars. I believe I had a sister, but my father and mother do not speak of her. It is said that she brought dishonor on my family." The princess had a sharp intake of breath.

The crown prince sitting next to her jumped slightly. Emeth saw that the princess had dug her nails into his arm. The prince looked at her quizzically before shrugging. It seemed he was used to such gestures.

"And how is Rabadash Tisroc (may he live forever)?"

"He reigns in his great palace in Tashbaan. My father tells me that in his younger days he rode to battle, but he has not left Tashbaan in years." The princess seemed to be struggling not to laugh, as well as the boy who was her brother-in-law.

"Yes, he did lead charges when he was younger. Calormen is at its most peaceful with him on the throne though, is it not?"

"Yes, your Highness, it is."

"I am glad to hear of it."

_Why? Why Aslan, have you sent my brother to me? I was just beginning to think of Calormen as a fond memory, and now I have to remember my father and step-mother? _Aravis thought wildly to herself. Her brother was in Archenland, and he did not remember her. It was no fault of his, as he had been a child when she'd run away and 'disgraced the family honor'.

He had even told her of what her father thought of her! She had always known that what she had done would alienate her from her father forever, but to hear it spoken plainly by a boy who didn't even remember her had hurt.

She hadn't meant to squeeze Cor's arm so hard, but it had simply happened.

"Cor, I'm sorry about dinner," she said as they lay in bed that night.

"Hm?" he mumbled.

"When I dug my nails into your arm."

"Oh, it's all right. By the way, what was wrong with you? You were acting strangely ever since the Calormene's arrived. Did they bring back bad memories?"

"Yes, but not how you think. Cor, the young tarkaan is my brother." There was an long silence and Aravis pictured Cor thinking what she had just said through.

"What?"

"Emeth Tarkaan is my younger brother. I haven't seen him since he was a child, but I'm positive it's him."

"Oh."

"Oh? All you can say is oh? I just revealed that I think my younger brother whom I haven't seen in years is here and all you can say is oh?" Suddenly, all of Aravis's stress manifested itself in her anger at Cor. "You are no help whatsoever." She rolled over onto her side.

Aravis heard a sigh on her other side and suddenly felt herself wrapped in Cor's arms.

"Aravis, don't let's quarrel. I'm sorry my reaction was not to your satisfaction, but I'm tired and don't know what else to say." Aravis sighed too.

"Now I know why I married you, Shasta."

"Why?" he asked, sounding amused.

"So we could conveniently go on quarrelling and making up."

**A.N: So, I'm not really pleased with this chapter. Still, feedback is appreciated. No flames, only constructive criticism.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N. Thanks to CrazyDyslexicNerd for responding to my pleas. Some of the ideas (or most of them) were given to me by CrazyDyslexicNerd, so thanks for that. Also, to people who are reading this, sorry for the delay.**

The next morning, Emeth rose very, very early. In fact, the Sun hadn't even seen fit to grace Archenland with it's presence. So, he got up, dressed, and prepared for the day. Spontaneously, he decided to practice his scimitar fighting down in the courts. He tiptoed past everyone's rooms and attempted to avoid contact with anyone who would recognize him. In other words, everyone.

When he arrived at the courts, several soldiers were already there, including the prince with the black eye. Prince Corin, Emeth remembered his name was. Prince Corin was bare at the chest, and sported several bruises and scars. He was an impressive man. At the moment though, he looked as if he were preparing for battle. Across from him was another man, also bare at the chest. The two men saluted each other with their fists and began.

As long as Emeth lived, he never saw another man who boxed as well as Prince Corin. His blows were powerful and well-aimed. Within a few minutes, the other man received a hard blow to his ribs and he collapsed. Price Corin immediately backed down.

"Alright, Cole?" he asked, helping the other man to is feet.

"Excellent job, Your Highness," the man gasped. "No one has ever winded me so quickly." He spat out something that looked very much like blood and saliva, and something else that Emeth strongly suspected were teeth. "Good morning, good sir," the man said as cheerfully as one can when one's recently been relieved of several teeth.

"Fair morning, Lord Cole," Emeth replied respectfully. He hoped he wasn't overstepping any boundaries. In Calormen, the way he had spoken to the other man would have been considered disgraceful if the other man had been of higher rank. As it was, Lord Cole hardly seemed offended.

"You're with the Calormene party, aren't you?" Prince Corin asked curiously. Unlike his brother Cor, his voice was purely in the clipped tones of the Archen people.

"Yes, I am Emeth Tarkaan, son of Kidrash Tarkaan, son of-"

"You needn't go into all the details!" Prince Corin interrupted quickly. Emeth suppressed a laugh. He'd forgotten how little northerners cared for genealogy. For them, it merely sufficed to have your predecessors name's written somewhere, as opposed to announcing it when one introduced oneself. Emeth himself didn't particularly care for who his great-great-grandfather had been. As it was, they didn't seem particularly relevant.

"Your pardon, Highness. One might call it habit."

"Oh, nothing needs to be pardoned. It's Princess Aravis who you need to worry about. Anytime we have ambassadors from Calormen, she always shows up late so she needn't hear everything they say."

It was odd to hear a prince speak so easily. Rabadash Tisroc's sons were stuffy at best, cruel and haughty at their worst.

"Is Princess Aravis the lady of the court?"

"Yes, she is. My mother died when I was a child, and when Aravis came to us with Cor, she sort of... took it over."

"And has done an admirable job of it," Cole cut in. "She was only eleven at the time. Eighteen when she married the crown prince."

"Now that we've had such conversations, and completely distracted Emeth Tarkaan from what he came down here to do, we should probably let him get back to that." Prince Corin walked over to where a wash basin stood and splashed the water over his face. He yelped slightly as the water made contact with his skin.

"Merciful Lion, that's cold!" Cole seemed to be trying not to laugh, but failed. "Oh, shut up Cole," Corin muttered. Emeth unsheathed his scimitar and set his stance, preparing to attack the dummy.

With a fury, he viciously began mauling the dummy, letting out all his confusion as pent up energy. When he was satisfied that the dummy was sufficiently dead, he ceased. Cole and Corin were looking at him appraisingly.

"That was impressive, Emeth Tarkaan," Cole commented.

"Emeth would be alright," Emeth informed him awkwardly.

"Emeth it is then. How long have you been practising?"

"Since I was seven, Lord Cole."

"If you're to be Emeth, then I am to be Cole."

"As you wish, Cole."

"How old are you lad?"

"I turned fourteen, last winter."

"And your father let you come alone?" Corin asked.

"Don't forget that you yourself were only twelve when you accompanied their majesties King Edmund and Queen Susan to Calormen, your Highness," Cole reminded the prince.

"Yes, but their majesties are very close friends to my family. Is the ambassador a friend of your fathers?"

"I suppose so. I'm considered a man by Calormene standards, so my father thought I could use experience." Prince Corin seemed to think this was not a very good reason for someone to leave ones father, but didn't comment on it. When other people started arriving, Emeth excused himself from the courts and returned to his room.

**Thanks for reading! As always, feel free to review. But if you're just going to chew me out, please don't bother. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Upon return to his chambers, Emeth washed, dressed and prayed to Tash. The last thing he did was more out of habit than true piety. He had never felt any great desire to worship the multiple gods of Calormen, but saying that to any priest would guarantee you a one way ticket to the loss of an ear. Emeth rather liked his ears, and as he only had two of them, he had great desire to keep them.

The Sun of Archenland was less harsh than that of Calormen, no matter the fact that it was the same one. Emeth stood at the window sill, looking out. He saw the distant shadows of what a servant girl had said were the mountains that signified the border between Archenland and Narnia, ruled by four siblings. Emeth's father had once said that years ago, Rabadash Tisroc (may he live forever) had courted the elder queen, Queen Susan.

There was a knock at the door and a moment later the ambassador was in Emeth's room. The ambassador was not a terribly impressive man, short and somewhat plump. The most powerful thing about him was his massive turban. It seemed that short people felt the need to make up for their lack stature by wearing or building massive things.

"So, my young lord, how fareth you this morning? Has not one of the poets said: 'The beginning of a day influenceth the rest'?"

"It is not my place to doubt it, Lord Ambassador. I am well. If I may inquire as to your health this fine day?"

"I am well as well, my young lord. These northern barbarians have a pleasant castle, I will admit. But, a poet has once said, 'A man's home does not the man make.'" The realization that Emeth despised the constant quoting of poets struck him suddenly. If Princess Aravis had abandoned Calormen, it was easy to assume that she also had disliked it.

"Of course, Lord Ambassador. Shall we be breaking our fast soon?"

"Yes, my young lord, but remember, 'Patience is foremost among the virtues.'"

"Of course, Lord Ambassador."

"Excellent. A poet once said..." Emeth had stopped listening. He had never fully noticed how much unnecessary poetry was quoted. The advice was at best useful, at worst rather comical. Once Emeth had to excuse himself from supper early, and rather rudely, because his father's guest would not stop quoting the most far flung poets with the most ridiculous advice. He'd received a reprimand afterward that stung his ears.

Emeth breakfasted with the ambassador and other members of their party, and joined the ambassador in the throne room for negotiations. The two princes, princess and King Lune were present. What followed were numerous tedious discussions that Emeth grew so bored with, he ceased paying attention. He instead watched the elder prince, Prince Cor.

He was a quiet man, but confident in himself. The gold circlet on his head blended in with his blonde hair, and his pale skin contrasted with his wife's drastically, but he was still darker than anyone not of Calormen in the room. He appeared to be listening intently, but that was no judge of character at all. Emeth himself hoped that he had adopted the same look.

He turned his attention next to Princess Aravis. There was something about her nose that seemed so familiar, only adding to his confusion and interest. Fingering his own nose, he realized why. They had the same nose, distinct to the line of the lords of Calavar. Emeth finally figured out something. He was positive that Princess Aravis was his sister.

Someone had mentioned that Aravis was not quite twenty years of age, so the ages fit. His sister was five or six years older than he, and so was Aravis. They had the same nose, for Tash's sake! The next problem Emeth encountered was: 'How on Earth do I explain this to her?'

**A.N. After much waiting the chapter is up. The quotes from the poets are my own, but I read a lot, so someone else's work may have infiltrated my brain. Sorry if I've not given credit where credit is due.**

**I may also be messing with Lewis's timeline, but as others have said, I don't see how it makes sense for Lucy to remember how they came to Narnia in the fourteenth year of their reign, and completely forget when they left. No offense intended. I may put out another fanfic, but in the Lewis fandom, but I will try to keep posting for this one.**

-the Dryad Queen


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N. I'm just cranking out the chapters here. Three in one week is good for me.**

**I forgot something last chapter. The line about Emeth rather liking his ears and only having two of them is a variation of a reply given to King Henry VIII by a woman he proposed to. Sorry 'bout that. Without further ado, here's chapter five.**

Despite having no idea how he would tell Princess Aravis of his suspicions, Emeth proceeded as he normally would: by questioning people carefully. He decided to start with Prince Corin, as the prince seemed the most forthcoming of the royal family. Emeth and the ambassador were invited to lunch with the king, his sons and his daughter-in-law. To Emeth's delight, he was seated next to the person he most wished to speak to, Corin himself. The prince looked slightly better than he had that morning, and the bruises Emeth had noticed the day before were more faded. Still, the prince was ravenous and ate more than Emeth thought possible.

Archenlandish food, Emeth decided, was a good deal better than Calormen, given that in Calormen half of what you eat is soaked in spices and oil. Archenlandish food was fresher, and the tastes were different, a difference Emeth was rather fond of. There was also something called butter, which supposedly came from the juice of a cow, like cheese came from the juice of a goat. He warily tried it, before discovering that it was rather good on bread. All in all, an excellent lunch. He also managed to get some information out of Prince Corin.

"Has Princess Aravis ever mentioned who her sire is?" he asked innocently, in the way that irritating fourteen year olds have.

"She might have, but it would have been long ago. Aravis doesn't care for genealogical declarations. You might ask her or my brother if you're curious." Emeth would rather ask that of Prince Cor than Princess Aravis. She did not seem like one to reveal much about herself.

"How did she come to live in Archenland?" he asked in the same innocent tone. Prince Corin muttered something, all the while looking awkward.

"It is a long, boring story, not often told. You may hear it, if they tell it at Aravis and Cor's second wedding anniversary, two weeks from now."

"When is her birthday?"

"You are very curious about her," Corin said suspiciously. Emeth knew he had better come up with a good lie, and quickly.

"I am," he admitted, buying himself some time. "I am interested in her because she is a lady of my land, obviously of noble birth, and I'm wondering if my father would know her family."

"Well, when her birthday is is no secret. It is two days from now. The celebrations are being planned even as we speak."

"Excellent. Thank you for your information, your Highness." Their conversation drifted to other topics, but Emeth felt he had gotten a good deal of information. The only issue that rose from that was the fact that he had alerted Prince Corin to his interest. No matter, the questions he had asked had been harmless enough. Or so he thought.

OoOoOoOo

Later that night, Cor, Aravis and Corin met in the kitchen for a late snack, as they were wont to do. Corin was flopped on the floor, while Aravis sat on a clean counter. Cor was riffling through the pantry in search of chocolate for himself, his wife and his twin. When he found a large slab, he brought it out and broke it. While Corin munched on a large chunk, he remembered his earlier conversation.

"Oh I say Aravis, you know the young one, Emeth Tarkaan? He was asking a lot of questions about you earlier."

"Why?" she asked, sucking on her own piece.

"Apparently, he was interested in a lady, obviously of noble blood, from his country. But he was lying."

"I'm impressed Corin," Aravis said. "Your skills of observance are better than I thought."

"Well, you and Cor never did notice when I saw you two kissing in the garden three years ago." Corin ducked as a large chunk of chocolate was thrown his way. He considered himself lucky that the knives were too far away for her to reach earlier.

"I take back my previous statement, iditot."

"Cor, control your wife. I might've died." This time Corin was pelted with chocolate from both directions as his brother joined his sister-in-law. No one controlled Aravis.

"Cor, you're lucky I've never had a knife near me," Aravis informed her husband angrily. "As you would have been an only child again." Cor rolled his eyes, not that he denied what she said. It was very lucky that he was always the one who discovered Corin at his worst, or Corin would have more people than Aravis after him with a kitchen knife.

"Why am I always in the middle of these things?" Cor muttered to himself.

**A. N. So this chapter is dedicated to my younger brother, who will be fourteen soon, and has that irritating fourteen year old manner. Love ya, Little Brother.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N. Wow, it has been a very long time since I updated!**

Emeth wished he had a bit more common sense; perhaps then he wouldn't have been standing behind a tapestry in the Great Hall. His old nurse, who'd looked after him as a child, had often informed him he was far too curious for his own good. Emeth was only just now beginning to suspect she had been on to something.

He'd only been poking around, honestly. And all of a sudden, he was hiding while Archenland's sovereigns discussed important family matters. Emeth knew he had no right whatsoever to be listening in, but it wasn't as though he could exactly leave. The shame and dishonor upon him and his family! There was also the sound beating that would be sure to come when the ambassador got wind of the affair, and frankly Emeth cared more about that than anything. Let it never be said that all Calormene boys are stoic and unafraid of pain.

"And the Narnians will be arriving in time for your anniversary," the scribe finished.

"All of them?" Corin asked excitedly. He had retained his child-like enthusiasm, despite his other, drastically less child-like qualities.

"No, your Highness, only King Edmund and Queen Lucy will be coming of the Four, along with their attendants. We have been informed that High King Peter is once again in the North, and of course, one of them must always remain behind."

"Of course, of course," Emeth heard the elderly king say. "Still, I should have liked to see King Peter again. No matter. It will be enough to be soundly thrashed at chess by King Edmund. Thank you, Lord Evin, you may go." Through his place behind a tapestry, Emeth heard booted feet making their way out of the room.

"And now, my little lady," King Lune said, obviously to Aravis, "Your birthday approaches. The celebrations must be planned."

"Can we not just combine my birthday and the anniversary?" Aravis asked, almost desperately. "I mean, they are so close together, after all."

"But Aravis!" Prince Corin said with mock surprise, "What greater delight can there be than to be the center of attention at two gatherings within two weeks of each other?"

"Corin," Aravis growled warningly, sounding almost comically like a man. "You do not want to start this."

"But Aravis, the preparations are already underway as we speak! You wouldn't want to disappoint the Calormene ambassador, now would you? And think of the children!" While Aravis had sounded like a man, Emeth was given the impression of his old nurse when Prince Corin spoke, and he fought to control his laughter.

"Corin's right, Aravis.." Prince Cor said wearily, as though he knew he was stepping into dangerous territory.

"Ha!"Corin said in triumph.

"Much as it may surprise," Cor continued.

"Hey!"

"It doesn't mean I have to be happy about it," Emeth heard Aravis mutter. "Promise me at least that I won't have to dance with any Calormens."

"That I cannot do, my dear," King Lune said mournfully. "We must all do things we dislike. Why, when I was your age..." The king continued his narrative until they'd all walked out of the room. Breathing a sigh of relief, Emeth stepped out from behind the tapestry.

"I'd wondered which one you were behind," Prince Corin said. Emeth started, blushing beet-red.

"How did you-"

"Know? Why, my young lord, I spent my entire childhood- no, scratch that- I've spent my entire life eavesdropping. My brother only managed to save us all by eavesdropping, much as King Edmund has warned us against it."

"King Edmund?"

"Surely you know of King Edmund? He's one of the Four, the rulers of Narnia. He has been a friend of my father's since he first became king, he and his siblings. What do they teach you in Calormen?" The last bit the prince spoke was more muttered to himself.

"Honestly? That the northern countries are inhabited by demons and barbarians." Once again, Emeth blushed, realizing he'd committed a serious breach of etiquette. When in other countries, do not inform the princes of said countries what others think of them.

And then Prince Corin did something unexpected. He laughed, loudly, fully, and without any inhibitions.

"You are the oddest Calormene I've ever met. Please don't change."

"Would you mind not informing the ambassador of what I just said. He might not take it as well as you, your Highness."

"No trouble at all, young lord, none at all."

OoOoOoOo

The time remaining until Aravis's birthday party passed in a whirlwind of Emeth struggling to remain out of sight from the Calormenes and the Archen people alike. He was moderately successful, as his own people ignored him when they saw him, and most of the Archen people ignored him as well.

The exceptions to this were, of course, Prince Corin, Prince Cor, and Princess Aravis. These three all had different reactions to him. Prince Corin brightened whenever he saw him, Prince Cor usually looked at him in confusion and interest, and Princess Aravis looked at him with a pained expression.

Emeth in turn tended to scatter every time he saw her. Despite feeling certain she was of his blood, he really had no desire to broach the subject. If she was indeed Aravis Tarkheena of Calavar, she had obviously seen fit to abandon Calormen, and probably did not want to see him as anything but a member of the Calormene delegation.

Putting the thoughts out of his mind until after supper, he exited his rooms and descended into the banqueting hall.

**A.N. I am going to begin seriously messing with the timeline soon. As in, I will soon be bringing in Edmund and Lucy. Picture someone practically screaming they're so excited, and you might get an image of how pumped I am.**

**I'm on break now, so I may fit in a couple more chapters before I go back. Let me know what you think!**

**Oh, and in case you didn't know, Corin's line to Emeth after Emeth embarrasses himself is a variation of a line that is both book and movie verse. I like it too much to pass it up.**


	7. Chapter 7

Aravis's birthday banquet passed smoothly, but it was no great thing, and to tell you of it would bore you. Needless to say, she did indeed have to dance with several Calormenes, but managed not to yawn too obviously as they quoted very bad Calormene poetry to her.

Emeth, on the other hand, was fortunate enough to spend most of the evening with Prince Corin. Corin seemed to have decided that Emeth was his prodigy in the art of eavesdropping, and found him to be comic relief. Emeth in turn liked Corin, and thus found the evening perfectly satisfactory.

Two days later, a rich sounding horn echoed outside the gates. Emeth, who was with Corin on the battlements, saw a medium sized party of people. I say people in the broadest possible sense.

There were, in fact, only two humans, mounted on horseback. But, there were also three other horses (one of whom was laden down with several packs), seven dogs, five fauns, and two centaurs. Circling above the group were several different sorts of birds, including hawks, eagles, and a variety of smaller birds.

Emeth was astounded. He had never seen so many animals in one place without one trying to eat another, and he had also never seen a centaur or a faun before.

"Just a warning, my young friend," Corin said. "I would never use the words 'cute', 'adorable', 'fluffy', or anything else similar, in describing the Animals. Talking Beats don't particularly like that. You should also never ride a Talking Horse, especially if you value your teeth." Emeth nodded mutely. "Good day, King Edmund, Queen Lucy!" Corin yelled down. The two people looked up and, noticing Corin, waved cheerfully. At least, Queen Lucy did. King Edmund looked more as if he was greeting a great king.

The gates opened and the party moved inside, out of Emeth's view.

"Come on, Emeth, to the courtyard. Your party will be introduced anyway, and I have to be there."

The two boys walked down the staircase, Emeth almost running to match Prince Corin's pace. It seemed the prince was eager to greet their guests. Emeth himself was indifferent, as they would no doubt forget him the moment he was no longer in their line of vision.

The courtyard was bustling with activity. King Lune was greeting King Edmund and Queen Lucy rather enthusiastically, and Prince Cor and Princess Aravis were embracing the two horses who had not been carrying anything.

"Oh Hwin!" Aravis was saying happily, "I've missed you!"

"And I you, Aravis. Why, it seems only yesterday we were riding away from... that other place," the Horse said, much to Emeth's surprise.

"And you, Shasta!" the other Horse said. "You were no more than a fisherman's boy!"

Shasta? Why had the Horse called Prince Cor 'Shasta'? That was a Calormene beggar's name. Prince Cor didn't seem to mind though.

"And charging at a lion to save me!" Aravis cut in. She smiled at her husband affectionately.

What were they talking about? Charging at a lion, a boy called Shasta, running away?

"King Edmund, Queen Lucy, it is our good fortune to have you among us!" King Lune called above the ruckus. Slowly, everyone silenced to listen. "May I present to you our honored guest, Ambassador Rishtan of Calormen." The ambassador bowed low to the Narnian sovereigns. The rest of the Calormenes were presented to the Narnians, until it was finally Emeth's turn.

At the sound of his name, he bowed. Standing before him were two people who looked to be close in age and in their twenties. King Edmund was dark of hair, with pale skin. He had a grave look to him, but his eyes glinted pleasantly. He was tall, but lean and lithe, and he had an easy grace about him. A silver crown adorned his brow. Queen Lucy was less than a head shorter than her brother, and she was smiling. She was also beautiful, in an endearing way. Her hair seemed to be red, brown and blonde all at once, and her blue eyes sparkled merrily. A silver tiara of flowers was perched atop an elegant hair style.

"A pleasure to meet you, Emeth Tarkaan," they said kindly.

"Are you enjoying your stay in Archenland?" Queen Lucy asked. Her voice was like music, flowing from one word to the next.

"Assuredly, your Majesty. It has been very pleasant thus far."

"We are glad to hear it," King Edmund said. His voice was calm and serious, and Emeth could as easily picture him leading a battle charge as delivering a sentence in court. Deciding that then was his cue to back away, Emeth returned to his place beside Corin. Ambassador Rishtan raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

"Perhaps Your Majesties would like to be shown to your rooms?" King Lune suggested.

"Thank you, King Lune," Queen Lucy replied. King Edmund walked over to the horse he had been mounted on and began speaking to it.

"Take Bree and Hwin to your stables, Phillip. I'll come down later."

"As you wish, King Edmund," the Horse replied, startling Emeth out of his wits. What about what Corin had just told him? Was riding Talking Horses a special privilege only kings could have?

"I thought you said never to ride a Talking Horse!" Emeth whispered to Corin.

"Yes, I suppose I should have specified. Never ride a Talking Horse unless you are King Edmund the Just, and that Horse is named Phillip."

"King Edmund's the only one?"

"Er... yes. Well, sort've, but you'll find out more about that at the anniversary party."

"It seems I'll be finding out a lot at the anniversary party," Emeth muttered to no one in particular. Corin laughed when he heard, and Emeth blushed moderately, ashamed someone had heard him.

"I'm sorry, your Highness, I didn't mean-"

"Don't apologize, it was funny. You're sure you want to return to Calormen?"

"Not quite," Emeth said under his breath, and when Corin made no reply he assumed that he hadn't been overheard.

Besides, he couldn't very well return to Calormen, at least not until he learned the truth regarding Aravis instead of his own suspicions. With any luck, the anniversary dinner would provide him with the answers he needed.

**Happy New Year, my lovely readers. I'm hoping the lack of response to my last chapter is due to the fact that I posted it late in the evening. Please people, I love feedback. It would be lovely if it was constructive criticism, just to make a request. I want to know where I can improve!**

**I've also decided that Lucy will be twenty-five or twenty-six, and Edmund's around twenty-eight. Yes, I realize this means they would have been very young at the time of The Horse and His Boy, but bear with me. Peter was fairly young at the Battle of Beruna.**

**-Dryad**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Went back to the other chapters, edited a few things. Nothing drastic (mostly dealing with ages), and the plot hasn't really changed, just a few technical errors. I also figured out how my timeline works!**

In the days leading up to the celebration, Emeth, who always seemed to be underfoot thanks to Prince Corin, ended up aiding in the preparations as much as any servant. He did not particularly mind, actually, finding that he liked being helpful. He really had no purpose on the diplomatic mission other than to gain life experience. And apparently, to learn the correct way to hang tapestries. It would have been an extremely useful lesson- had Calormenes decorated with tapestries. And had he been a girl.

King Edmund and Queen Lucy could frequently be seen about Anvard, the queen usually in the company of Princess Aravis and Prince Corin (and thus Emeth by extension), while the king spent much of his time with King Lune and Prince Cor. If Emeth had thought the Archenlanders were relaxed, they were nothing compared to the Narnians. The centaurs were easily the quietest of the bunch, always exuding the presence of great warriors. The fauns, while occasionally reserved, were a cheerful bunch, and Queen Lucy's intoxicating laugh could often be heard ringing. Emeth had never seen anyone who took as much joy in being with other people as the lovely queen. She always greeted him kindly, as though she took a genuine interest in how he was. When he remarked as such to Prince Corin, the prince had nodded sagely.

"Lucy loves everyone. I'm sure she could charm the grumpiest Cal- er, that is to say..."

Emeth fought back a laugh as Prince Corin put his foot in his mouth. Where Prince Cor was reserved, if polite, his younger brother frequently said things which could be insulting if one was not used to his ways.

"I am certain she could, your Highness," Emeth finally cut in, saving Corin from too much more embarrassment. "Ashri Tarkaan seems quite taken with her."

It was, in fact, the truth. The middle-aged tarkaan, notorious for his gruff, silent exterior, seemed to take actual pleasure in speaking with the queen. She herself did not seem to mind either, and they often discussed poetry and the merits of the Narnian style versus the Calormene style. Emeth, who had read a small volume of the former kind, found himself more prone to agree with the queen.

The two weeks between Princess Aravis's birthday and her anniversary were some of the nicest Emeth had ever known. He spent an extraordinary amount of time with Prince Corin and very little with his own people, who all looked at him with disapproving faces. He had, however, gained the approval of the northern 'barbarians' and was thus not reprimanded too harshly.

It was a novelty, the feeling of being liked and having friends. Emeth had grown up a lonely child. Any others around his age had been below his station and his mother had refused to let him associate with them. As such, he had very little idea on how to interact with people his own age, and had always felt more comfortable around those who were older, perhaps the reason for his developing friendship with Prince Corin. The desire to return to Calormen was not strong in him, and he could not bring himself to feel at all sorry about it.

OoOoOoO

The morning of the day before the party dawned bright and clear. The Narnians, Archenlanders and Calormenes were set to go out on a hunt, and Emeth was rather excited. He had never been on a real hunt, thus the idea intrigued him.

Just after ten o'clock, all those who would be going were gathered in the courtyard. The area was filled with the sounds of whinnying horses and talking people. Emeth struggled to disappear into the masses, feeling overwhelmed. He backed up until he bumped into something. Thinking it was another person, he turned to apologize, only to be met with two very large, very brown eyes gazing at him impassively. It was a horse.

"Sorry, old fellow," he apologized rather politely.

"Are you alright, youngling?" a male voice asked. With a jolt, Emeth realized he was speaking with a Talking Horse. Not just any Horse, but King Edmund's Horse.

"Yes, fine thank you. I- I am sorry. About bumping into you, that is!" Having never spoken to an animal before- at least, one who spoke back- he was understandably a little nervous.

"No harm done. I would assume you are joining the group?"

"Er, yes, I will. I mean, I am. Excuse me, but I have to go find a.. well, a horse."

He hurried away, and thus did not see the amused look the Horse gave him. Even if he had, it is likely he would not have recognized it for what it was, for horses and Horses alike show their amusement in a very different manner than humans.

King Edmund, who of course recognized the look for what it was, fell in next to his Horse, leaning on the familiar strength of one of his closest friends. With obvious affection, Phillip nudged his Boy.

"Well, what do you think of him Phillip? Does he have potential?"

"He practically exudes it, King Edmund. Not many Calormenes, even other foals, would be so polite to one they thought was a dumb beast."

"I am glad you think so. Lucy likes him; she finds him 'endearing', as I think she put it."

"Then why do you ask the opinion of a humble Beast?"

"Because, while Lu is the best judge of character I know, she is a little odd in who she actually likes. Take that one Calormene with the funny beard."

"They are all odd in their choices of facial fur, King Edmund, and all except the youngling have beards. I do wonder what you humans qualify as 'funny' though, as King Peter himself has a furry face." Edmund snorted and bumped the Horse.

"Hey, that's the High King you speak of. Anymore and I shall have to promote you to some ridiculous title, and believe me, your name is long enough already."

"How kind of you, King Edmund. Now up you get. I feel we'll be leaving soon."

Edmund, never one to disagree with the words of his Horse, stepped into the stirrups and pulled himself into the saddle. His sister managed to maneuver her own horse so that she was almost bumping his knee with her own. Under her incandescent smile, Edmund could see what she was truly thinking.

"What lovely weather it is, Ed!" she said cheerfully. Her eyes spoke another story.

"I am sure we'll have great success," he replied evenly, nodding a little to show he'd understood her meaning. Her eyes flashed her gratitude before smoothing out to plain enthusiasm.

A horn sounded and they were off, heading out of the courtyard and away to the chase.

**Author's Note: Yes, ye precious few readers, I have returned. I think I finally know what I'm going to do with this story, and will work to finish it before Summer comes. Yes, I do realize that is fairly broad, but unfortunately I have other duties that also require my time.**

**As always, read and review. :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Except Emeth's personality. And maybe the centaur Baelfire and the Hound Reeve. **

The merry party set off into the nearby wood to the north of Anvard. The dogs, both talking and dumb, barked to their hearts content, going ahead of the group only to circle back again. Emeth could see the slight fear in his own horse's eyes and could only imagine the way the other Calormene horses were reacting. He glanced around, only to see King Edmund stoop, speaking to one of the Dogs.

With a loud howl, the Hound charged off into the brush, leading the others with him. When they did not re-emerge, but could still be faintly heard, Emeth realized what had been said. King Edmund met his gaze and winked before turning to speak to the tarkaan riding beside him. Emeth was surprised, as he didn't think that most Calormenes would have extended the same courtesy had the roles been reversed.

Emeth did not speak much as he rode, preferring to listen to Corin banter with Queen Lucy in what appeared to be an oft repeated debate about whether or not she had ever actually gotten into a drinking competition with a black dwarf clan chief. The queen's laugh rang out joyfully as Corin's arguments to the contrary grew ever more ridiculous, and even Emeth struggled to keep a straight face, while internally wondering whether or not it was true. He didn't think so, as Queen Lucy looked far too elegant to do something so... manly.

A dog howled as he or she picked up the scent and the nobles spurred their horses on, conversation forgotten in the joy of the chase. Emeth could see Aravis and Prince Cor neck in neck as they raced, a feral smile on the lady's face while Prince Cor's was a mask of professionalism. Emeth could not help but notice the extent to which Aravis resembled his father when doing that.

"Which way, Reeve?" Queen Lucy called to the same Hound King Edmund had.

"This way, my queen, this way! Quickly quickly quickly!" The Hound tore off again, the horses hot on his tail. Emeth heard Queen Lucy's laugh over the sound of the thundering hooves, and Emeth felt himself inclined to join it. For all that they were Talking Dogs, they were incredibly similar to their dumb counterparts.

King Edmund, at the front of the pack, held up a hand as his Horse slowed. Behind him the rest of his party followed his lead until they were all at rest in a small clearing.

"Why have we stopped?" Emeth whispered to Corin next to him.

"King Edmund is waiting for Reeve and the other dogs to chase the stag nearer to us. Soon we'll spread out a bit. The goal is for the kill to be quick, clean and merciful. This far into Archenland, there's no chance of it being a Talking Stag, but it's always best to be humane," Corin quickly whispered back. Emeth thought of the tiger fights his father so hated back in Calormen, feeling slightly sick that they called the northerners barbarians.

King Edmund made another gesture, his Horse walking once more. What followed next were some extremely complicated – at least to Emeth – orders from King Edmund, relating who was to be where and how many of them were to do it. Emeth stuck close to Corin so that there would be someone to tell him what to do. In the end, it was Lord Cole who felled the stag with a well-thrown spear. Queen Lucy lighted down from her horse to quickly cease the beast's suffering. Emeth awkwardly looked around a bit more, reluctant to see the stag's life end.

He looked back, noticing that a few of his kinsman had their bows out and appeared to be taking aim at some of the pheasants near them. By some weird trick of fate, Emeth happened to notice that with the trajectory of one of the arrows, it was sure to strike…

"Cor!" he shouted, launching himself forward off his horse. The moments that followed were filled with confusion. Emeth, who for a few seconds was air-born, had made contact with the rump of the crown prince's horse, which then startled and rushed ahead. In the same instant an arrow was released, flying just above Emeth's head as he fell, and striking a tree right next to the head of the ambassador's horse, which also startled, rearing up dangerously close some of the Dogs. The ambassador fell to the ground and the horse bolted. Shouts of panic and confusion filled the clearing as everyone attempted to figure out what had just happened. Emeth, feeling suddenly very tired, rolled over onto his back and let his head fall in the dirt.

The sound of a clear hunting horn was all that managed to bring a semblance of calm back to the hunting party. The centaur who had blown it only stopped at King Edmund's signal, crossing his massive arms in front of his chest and glaring at everyone.

"Thank you, Baelfire," King Edmund said. The centaur nodded gravely. Prince Cor, who had managed to get his horse back under control very quickly, trotted back into the clearing, sidling his horse up next to Princess Aravis, who looked him over with worry clearly worn into her expression. Cor smiled at her reassuringly, reaching over to clasp her hand briefly. "Now, would anyone who knows what just happened care to explain to the rest of us?" King Edmund asked, his expression laughing, but his eyes shrewd and dark. Emeth stood, feeling embarrassed and unsure how to explain.

"It was my fault, your Majesty," he managed to say. Everyone turned to look at him, and he could feel his cheeks heating up. "I feared that the prince would be struck by a stray arrow, and so I frightened his horse. I apologize for any injury I have caused."

"Apologize?" Corin asked him incredulously, dismounting from his own horse and slinging an arm around Emeth's shoulders. "You just saved the crown prince; I expect we should be thanking you!"

"The prince is right," King Edmund replied gravely, but with a kind smile at Emeth. "It would appear that through your quick action a life was spared."

"You certainly have my gratitude," Prince Cor added in, sounding relieved. It seemed that that was the thing to lessen the tension that had filled the group, as several people started laughing. Emeth and another Calormene stepped forward to help the ambassador to his feet, and one of the centaurs set off in search of the horse that had bolted. The ambassador looked rather upset, and he fixed Emeth with a dirty look. Emeth, sensing when his presence wasn't wanted, returned to Prince Corin's side. Princess Aravis jumped off her horse, going over to Emeth. She smiled at him (a little nervously) before figuring out what it was she wanted to say.

"Thank you, sir, for saving the life of my husband." In what appeared to be a spur of the moment decision, she leaned over and quickly kissed Emeth's cheek, shocking him, before returning to her horse and her husband. Corin also looked a little taken aback, but neither boy said anything.

The stag, by now dead for quite some time, was prepared for travel, and King Edmund went to his sister's side, handing her his own water-skin. Queen Lucy smiled at him in gratitude, nodding her head minutely in Emeth's direction. King Edmund caught her look and nodded as well.

"When we return, would you honor me with a walk in the northern gardens, sister?" Edmund asked lightly. "I am told by our dear cousin that they have a variety of new roses, and I would like to hear your opinion."

"Oh course, brother," Lucy replied equally lightly. Her hand strayed to the dagger belted at her waist for a moment before falling to her side.

And so it was the party returned to the castle at Anvard, weighed down by one dead stag, several dead birds, and a few new worries to consider.

**Author's Note: Well, this is embarrassing. Hello everyone. I hope you've had a nice almost entire year since I last updated. Yeah. Sorry…**

**Admittedly, I took the name 'Baelfire' from the show "Once Upon A Time". It just seemed fitting. That and I liked it. Also, the debate Corin and Lucy have about whether or not she was in a drinking competition is a reference to something I mention in Lucy's chapter of my fic "Magnificent, Gentle, Just, Valiant". I may one day actually tell that story, if only because it makes me laugh.**

**Next up (writing it as we speak): A conversation, and some more dropping of eaves…**


	10. Chapter 10

The return to Anvard was peaceful and filled with quiet conversation. Emeth, who felt as though all his strength had quite left him, could only mutely follow Corin as they rode. The younger prince chose this time to ride next to his brother and sister-in-law, as Queen Lucy had moved closer to King Edmund and was speaking with him quietly, although about what Emeth could not hear.

The young tarkaan could, however, reflect on his actions, and wonder why he had reacted quite so readily to protect the crown prince. And more to the point, why one of his kinsmen had been aiming even remotely in the direction of the Archen noble. It could not have been intentional; killing one country's crown prince was not exactly the most diplomatic of actions, and Rabadash Tisroc (may he live forever) was not exactly the most open to war, for reasons Emeth was told he was not to know about until he was older, but which most people either found very funny or very embarrassing. Still, the entire affair left a sick feeling in Emeth's stomach, and he felt very nervous. Something – though he wasn't quite sure what – was amiss, and he was not entirely sure he wanted to find out what.

OoOoOoO

Upon arriving back at Anvard, the party dispersed quickly enough; most people headed off to bathe, hunts being sweaty, active events. King Edmund and Queen Lucy, however, took a different route, instead going to Anvard's northernmost gardens. They walked around as casually as they could, stopping every so often to admire the roses or other flowers.

"I'm worried, Ed," Lucy confided to her brother quietly, forgoing their usual formality. "It's not right."

"How do you mean, Lu?" Edmund asked in reply. He had learned that when Lucy thought something was wrong, then something was usually wrong.

"I was walking back to my rooms late last night, and I decided to try a different route to see if it was faster. This incidentally took me down the same hallway where the Calormenes are being quartered. I was walking past one of the doors when I heard raised voices. I couldn't quite make out what was being said, but I did catch something about the party, and someone not being sure if the plan was a good one. I know that one voice belonged to the ambassador, and I am fairly certain that the second was one of the tarkaans we've been discussing silk prices with."

"I'm not doubting you Lu, but are you sure this is cause for concern?" Edmund asked. He could tell quite plainly that his sister was nervous, but they had to be sure, or risk a diplomatic incident. Even if Rabadash Tisroc could not make war personally, there was always the chance he would send others to do so.

"That's the problem, Edmund!" Lucy whispered heatedly, sounding frustrated. "I can't be sure, and so I can't do anything, but this entire situation just feels wrong. I can't explain it, but I just feel certain that these Calormenes are up to something. Take today; I didn't see it happen, but I am inclined to believe that our young tarkaan would not have acted unless he had felt that Cor was truly in danger."

"I as well, Lu," Edmund replied, sounding thoughtful.

"Then what do we do, Edmund?" Lucy asked. Her brother fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowed.

"Nothing, for the moment. We can't act without risk of offending the Calormenes and ruining what relations we do have with them. So, we watch, and we wait, we stay prepared, and we trust that Aslan will provide." Lucy sighed, but nodded.

"Alright, Edmund. If that's what you think is best." Lucy sounded resigned, but Edmund snorted.

"I know it's not preferable, Lu, but it's all we can do. Keep alert though."

"I will, and I know we need to trust Aslan, but I feel uncomfortable anyway. Now, if you'll excuse me, I feel filthy and in desperate need of a bath." She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. "And no offense, but you stink."

"You wound me, sister!" Edmund exclaimed, holding his hand to his chest. The two Narnian sovereigns laughed and headed off to their rooms.

OoOoOoO

While Edmund and Lucy had been having their conference, Emeth had quickly cleaned himself up before heading back out to roam around Anvard. Servants were in a flurry of preparation for the anniversary party the next day, which made it surprisingly easy for Emeth to go unnoticed wherever he went. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, or if he was really looking for anything at all; he only knew that something was amiss with his kinsman.

After several hours had passed of very little happening, Emeth was hungry enough to venture down to the kitchens for a snack, which he practically inhaled, to the amusement of the head cook. While there, he was intercepted by Corin and dragged off to go talk to some of the Narnians, citing that Emeth needed to broaden his cultural horizons, or something along those lines. The centaur Baelfire in particular interested Emeth, with his deep voice and huge stature.

"You have quick reflexes, young lord," the centaur observed. Emeth could only nod and stammer his thanks. The centaur appeared to be taking Emeth's measure, and nodded to himself before returning to polishing his massive two-handed sword. Feeling his knees knocking, Emeth went to Corin's side. The younger prince was chatting quite amiably with a faun and the hound Emeth recognized as the Talking Dogs' pack leader, Reeve.

"I see you've become acquainted with Baelfire," the faun remarked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"You might say that," was Emeth's reply. His knees felt weak, and deep down, he knew it was because he rather wanted to impress these creatures that were so different from anything he'd ever known.

"Ah, don't fear, young lord," the faun said kindly. "Baelfire's intimidating, but if he complimented you, that means he likes you. 'Sides, you should see one of his kinsman, General Oreius. Now there's a centaur you definitely don't want to mess with. Name's Sergeant Ernes, by the way."

"Emeth," the Calormene boy replied.

"Oh aye, we know," the hound, Reeve, chortled. Or, what Emeth assumed passed for a Dog's chortle. "Baelfire's not the only northerner who's fond of you." Without a reply to that, Emeth just went along with it as the conversation changed to battle strategies.

When it was almost supper, Emeth excused himself to go change, as he and the rest of the ambassadorial party would be dining with the Archen and Narnian nobles. He was poised outside the ambassador's door to knock when he heard something that stopped him cold.

"Poison is the way to go," he heard the ambassador say dismissively.

"But my lord, either way we will be suspect," another voice replied. Emeth thought he recognized it as belonging to one of the merchant lords. "Would it not be better to make it appear to be more of an accident?"

"Well, you saw how well that last attempt went," Rishtan said scathingly. "If only that idiot boy had kept his ground. He's grown far too close to these barbarians. Next thing we know, he'll be just like that traitor bitch warming the prince's bed."

"Keep your voice down!" the other lord hissed. "Do you want someone to hear?"

"Yes yes," Rishtan said. "Now, you will do as I order and poison the boar. By Tash's eye, we will kill at least a few of these barbarians. Ensure that all of our party knows not to consume it."

"Even Ashri?" the other one asked, sounding put out. The ambassador seemed to be thinking, as he did not reply for a moment.

"It might draw some of the suspicion away from us," he said slowly. "Yes. I've changed my mind. Tell only those whom you know are truly dedicated to our cause. This way we can eliminate multiple parties at once. And when your own cousin is found dead, along with the son of the venerable Kidrash Tarkaan and several others, well, who would dare suspect us in our profound and visible grief?"

"By the eye of Tash, it will be done," the other lord swore. Frozen where he was, Emeth did not realize that the door was opening until he was looking into the rapidly angering faces of Ambassador Rishtan and Ilsometh Tarkaan. The door closed again, although this time with Emeth on the other side, back pressed against the door and a dagger pressed against his pulse.

"Well, it looks as though things just became a little more complicated," Rishtan said dryly.

**A.N. My first real cliff-hanger! We are definitely getting into the main action, so there shouldn't be too many more chapters. Stay tuned for the next one, which I'll hopefully finish and write soon!**


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